The Sorrows of the Dragonlord
by StrangelyPenned
Summary: SERIES 5 SPOILERS. Three years. He last saw the white dragon three years ago, where she burst from the egg and showed hope for all of Albion. She's a stark contrast now: red-skinned and ill ... and allied with Morgana. Merlin doesn't know what happened. He doesn't know WHY it happened. All he knows is that it is all his fault. (Two-shot just in time for Halloween! :P)
1. Chapter 1

**Series 5 is too good for my feels to cope and I've been writing half-finished fic after half-finished fic. I hope you like this one. I just could not stop thinking about Aithusa, my poor baby. **

**Herein lie spoilers.**

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Merlin felt like he could cry. This was his fault. It may not have been his doing; but it was all completely, terribly, his fault.

Aithusa crooned softly and mumbled intelligibly under her breath as Merlin stroked her snout softly. The warlock swallowed down a lump in his throat, looking at her dull scales under his fingers. They should have been pure, glorious white. Instead, she was patch-worked with ill veins of red, covered in dirt.

No longer a shining dragon.

"I'm sorry," Merlin whispered, his voice faint in the wind. "I am so sorry."

The dragon's head in his lap raised and she looked up at him with wide, forgiving eyes. Merlin didn't know what had happened. All he knew was that Aithusa was allied with Morgana.

He wanted to curse the witch for changing the dragon's views so, but he couldn't. All he could do was be thankful for her, strangely, for being there for Aithusa when he wasn't. What kind of Dragonlord was he? Merlin felt a burning shame rise in him. What would Kilgharrah say? What would his Father think if he were he here now?

"I'll make them pay," Merlin vowed quietly. "I'll make them pay for doing this to you Aithusa."

Aithusa nestled her head a little more in Merlin's lap. The rest of her body – curled around Merlin, with her tail thumping softly against his knee – snuggled a little closer to him. Merlin blinked back a few more tears. Why did she trust him so much?

"I'm sorry," he muttered hoarsely, blinking back tears, knowing he was repeating himself, but what else could he say? "I'm sorry, Aithusa."

Merlin ran a hand over her scales, her thin frame, her frail wings. Would it work, if he tried to heal her? He wasn't the best at healing magic, but he would be damned if he didn't try.

Merlin placed a hand on her head and then frowned, concentrating. "_Ic the-_"

"Get away from her!"

Merlin barely had time to turn his head in the direction of the voice when he found himself flying backwards, tumbling, spinning around and around, until he slammed hard into a tree trunk and collapsed onto the cold snow.

And then Morgana was standing over him. She jerked her head sideways and he flew backwards in the other direction. And then she pulled out a knife.

"Merlin!"

Merlin raised his head blearily. From what he could make out past Morgana, Arthur and the knights had arrived (finally). They were all standing there, wielding swords, looking ready for battle. Morgana snarled savagely, eyes locking hungrily onto Arthur.

"Hello brother," she called.

"Get away from him!" Arthur yelled. Merlin saw him coming closer and groaned.

Morgana's head snapped around to face him, dark locks whipping around her frostbitten face. And then her chapped lips broke out into a small smile.

"Kill him, you said?" she asked Arthur tauntingly.

Her hand flew out and suddenly the dagger was hovering in front of Merlin's face. He had been in this situation before. Arthur stepped forwards again, his eyes wide and terrified. Morgana faced him, raising a hand, her mouth forming words.

And then there was a roar. Merlin opened his eyes, straining them. His vision of Morgana and Arthur and the forest was blocked by …

"Aithusa?" Morgana sounded uncertain. "What are you doing?"

Aithusa roared again. She stood right in front of Merlin. When Arthur, behind Morgana, tried to come closer, a fiery torrent of flames escaped from her mouth. The King stopped, halfway between Morgana and his men. Morgana threw up a hand and a fast-worded spell to protect herself, then stared disbelievingly at the dragon.

"What are you doing?"

Aithusa hung her head slightly and looked at Morgana dolefully, desperate sounds emerging from her mouth. She didn't move from where she stood over Merlin. A dragon protector.

"You're protecting him," Morgana realised, coming to the same conclusion as the warlock. The witch looked up at Merlin, her eyes wide and confused. "Why are you-?"

"Who did this to you?"

Merlin's words were spoken in a low voice, urgently, interrupting Morgana's confused mutterings. He had come to the conclusion that it wasn't Morgana, if not for the way Aithusa seemed to like her.

Morgana blinked, shocked. "What?"

"Aithusa," Merlin began, but then stopped, unsure how to go on.

Morgana narrowed her eyes. "How do _you _know her name?"

"I don't have time for that," Merlin said in a low voice, casting a glance to where Arthur was slowly creeping forwards. He focused on the sorceress. "Morgana, this is important. _Please_. Tell me who did this to her. Who-who hurt her …"

He trailed off and swallowed down a lump in his throat again. The pain hit him again; the pain of the fact that he had _allowed _this to happen.

Morgana was staring at him. "Why would you care?" she asked, finally. "Aithusa is a dragon, a creature of magic." She lifted her head, chin pointing in the air. "Magic, Merlin."

"Don't try that on me," Merlin spat, suddenly enraged, but still keeping his voice low. Morgana stared at him again, startled. "I _helped _you, Morgana. I told you the truth. I directed you to the Druids. I wouldn't have judged you because of your magic."

Morgana's green eyes were wide and round, but after a few moments she composed herself and snarled viciously. "Oh, so poisoning me was _helping me, _was it Merlin? Trying to _kill me _was _helping _me?!"

Merlin said nothing for a moment. "It was a mistake," he mumbled finally. "I'm sorry. I … I just wanted to save Camelot."

There was silence and it seemed as if Morgana didn't know what to say. When he looked up at her, blue eyes meeting green, he was only a little surprised to see a myriad of emotions in her eyes. Her face was as stony as usual.

"He's dead," she said abruptly. Merlin raised an eyebrow questioningly. "The one that," Morgana waved a hand at Aithusa, squaring her shoulders, and Merlin realised the dragon hadn't been the only one hurt in that ordeal. "The bastard. He's dead," she repeated.

And with that, Morgana turned to face Arthur and with a savage snarl, thrust her hands out. The King went flying in the snow. Merlin managed to stop himself crying out as Arthur hit the ground, hard. The Knights raced forwards, but were quickly subjected to the same treatment. Morgana didn't bother with fancy hovering knives this time; simply looking as if she wanted to get away as quickly as possible. Merlin swallowed nervously, eyeing the still forms of his friends.

"Come, Aithusa," Morgana said, turning back to the dragon.

The white dragon didn't move. Merlin felt a surge of gratitude towards her, but he couldn't help feeling the guilt again. He should have been there. He should have saved her. Aithusa was _his _responsibility, and basking in the luxury of a few safe years at Camelot, he had allowed her to be injured and taken by Morgana.

Did he even have any chance of getting her back? Merlin looked past Morgana, to where the knights were getting up slowly, still wary to move on the witch.

"For some reason," Morgana said, narrowing her eyes down at Merlin. "Aithusa thinks I should spare you. You won't be so lucky next time."

Morgana turned and swept away. When she had moved away from Merlin, she held her hand out to Aithusa. Aithusa made a few more desperate sounds, turning to face Merlin again.

"You can go if you wish," Merlin told her softly.

"I won't harm him, Aithusa," Morgana said, the expression on her face as though the words left a sour taste in her mouth.

The dragon seemed to accept that. She scampered slowly over to Morgana and followed her through the trees without a backwards glance at Merlin. Soon, the two were out of sight.

That was when Arthur decided to march over to Merlin and cuff him around the head. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.

Merlin's eyes met his King's for a moment, before turning back to look in the direction Aithusa had disappeared. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "I really don't know."

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**Tell me what you think - and a sequel may be upcoming.**

**(:**

**-SP x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Happy Halloween! I thought I'd follow up on my promise of a sequel so um, here it is. (:**

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Kilgharrah roared and Merlin felt the sound issue from his throat like thunder, clinging onto the Great Dragon's scaly back and trying not to fall off. Below, the people were tiny pinpricks, the trees the only light - lit up like a great, blazing inferno. Merlin usually loved flying, feeling the wind in his hair, the freedom unrestrained.

Today, it was not the same.

Merlin spotted something white and before he knew it, Aithusa was upon them, her claws out as she slashed viciously at Kilgharrah's face. The dragon under him banked sideways and Merlin scrabbled frantically for a hold.

"Kilgharrah!" he yelled, but his voice was ripped away by the storm.

The rain was coming in sheets now, soaking him to the skin and chilling him to the bone. Merlin was at a loss what to do. He could think of no spells, no enchantments, nothing. After all - this was a fight between _dragons_. Creatures of legend that could live for hundreds and hundreds of years. What were people to them? What were they but tiny, minuscule beings, with lives so short and the greed for power so great?

"Hold on, Merlin," Kilgharrah rumbled Merlin bit back a retort.

"Why won't she listen to me?" Merlin asks desperately, quietly, but knowing Kilgharrah can hear him. "She won't …"

"She will, young warlock," Kilgharrah disagrees. "You are a Dragonlord. The hatchling must obey your wishes. The power runs in your blood."

Merlin stilled, was silent. He thought of Balinor's dying words. He must find the voice he shared with the Dragon. He must command her to stop, else all is lost.

"I can't," Merlin whispered. Kilgharrah did not reply.

And then, suddenly, a weight barreled into his side and Merlin gasped as Kilgharrah rolled over and over and over in the sky, the lightning flashing and the storm clouds covering everything with an ominous presence. Merlin reached for a spike on the Great Dragon's back but it was ripped away.

And then he was falling – feather-light and weightless, cutting through the rain. For a second, he was flying.

But reality caught up and Merlin realised he was not flying: he was falling. And sooner or later, he was going to hit the ground.

He closed his eyes and tried to shape, tried to command, but he could form no coherent thought. So, using the only thing he had left, Merlin simply aimed his fingers below him and _thought_. The air below him rippled as his eyes flashed gold. Merlin choked back a scream as the ground rushed up towards him …

And then Aithusa was there, once more in the way. Only this time she pushed against his side and Merlin missed the sharp rocks he was going to fall on. He rolled away and landed on the sodden, wet grass, rolling in the mud until he came to an abrupt stop.

For a second he simply lay there, soaked through. The landing was rough, but okay. Okay enough that he did not break all his bones upon impact.

_It was Aithusa_, Merlin realised, and laughed aloud, letting the rainwater fall onto his face, into his open mouth, trickling down his throat. He saw a large shape flit above him and-

"Kilgharrah!" Merlin screamed.

He watched in horror as the Great Dragon's wing was torn. Merlin reached out with his fingers and the dragon was granted some uplift, but not enough. He clattered to the ground not far from Merlin and Merlin gasped, gawked, panted heavily. Kilgharrah couldn't be down, defeated. He just _couldn't_.

And suddenly, Merlin had had enough. He turned, roars issuing loudly from his throat. He did not quite know what he was saying – the words incomprehensible, unintelligible. All he knew was that it was bringing the small white dragon to him.

Aithusa landed heavily on the ground and Merlin lashed out with his words. Halfway through his rant, she stumbled and collapsed. She was hurt.

"No," Merlin breathed.

He rushed to her side just as she fell onto the floor. He stared, as her chest heaved in and out, her wings crumpled by her side. Merlin skidded in the wet grass a little and pulled her dragon head into his lap.

"A-Aithusa?" His voice cracked on the name.

She crooned softly, looking up at him with those damaged eyes.

Merlin blinked back tears and looked up into the sky, eyes closing. "Damn it, no. Why?"

She muttered something at him again and Merlin looked at her sadly. He didn't understand. She knew he didn't understand, but she was still speaking, gazing at him with her doleful eyes, willing him to understand.

"Merlin?"

The warlock didn't move. Behind him, King Arthur came closer. He stopped short when he saw his manservant, tenderly stroking the white and red scales of the dragon.

"Merlin," Arthur said slowly, warningly. "What are you doing? Get away from it."

"Her name is Aithusa," Merlin snapped. He didnn't look around; running a hand up and down her snout. "And besides, she can't do anything. She's dying, isn't she?"

Arthur stepped closer, sword raised. "Merlin, Morgana will be along at any moment. We have to kill it."

Aithusa crooned and suddenly Merlin was furious. He whipped his head around to Arthur and stared at the King, coldly, hatefully. Arthur blinked at him, shuffled backwards a little.

"You will do no such thing," Merlin snarled.

"Merlin …"

"Haven't you done enough harm?" Merlin snapped. "You and your _sister_." He scoffed. "Dragons should not be used like this. They have no place in the battle of men." Merlin's tone turned soft, tears once more blurring his vision as he shook his head, whispering, "This wasn't supposed to happen." He thought of Arthur and Morgana and their continuous wars. But now they had brought the dragons into it - making two noble creatures who should be kin fight against each other, on warring sides. His voice was vulnerable when he repeated, "This wasn't supposed to happen, Arthur."

"_Mer_lin," Arthur said desperately, in the voice of a man not knowing what was happening around him. "Get _away _from it. The Great Dragon's still alive, did you see that? How Morgana got a dragon working for her I'll never know-"

"Kilgharrah does not _work _for Morgana!"

Arthur stared.

"The Great Dragon's allegiance has never been with that witch," Merlin said, spitting out the words. "And you'd do well to understand that."

"Merlin …"

"I'm a Dragonlord!"

Arthur stared again as Merlin whirled round, standing to his full height and looking Arthur in the eye. Aithusa crooned softly again. The fire in the trees was inching closer, not put out by the torrent of rain falling down on them.

"I'm a Dragonlord," Merlin repeated slowly, chest heaving. "That's what you wanted to know, isn't it? Why I don't want to kill all the dragons on sight. Why I'm stopping you from cold blooded murder. Well I'm a Dragonlord, Arthur."

Arthur shook his head, as if trying to get rid of something. "No. No, Merlin, you can't be."

"I am!" Merlin roared, and perhaps it was the dragon-tongue in his voice that made Arthur scramble backwards some more, staring at his friend, horrified. Merlin stared, his voice softening. "Mark this, Arthur. _I don't side with Morgana_. Never have, never will. My alliegance is with the dragons."

"But you … Merlin …"

"My Father was a Dragonlord," Merlin said, feeling the urge to explain. "He … He died. And so …" Merlin looked at Arthur, pleadingly. "I can't let you hurt her. Please. The Dragons ... There's just two left. My Father, he would have wanted ..."

"Merlin," Arthur said slowly. "The last Dragonlord was Balinor."

Merlin merely bowed his head. Arthur gasped aloud and Merlin turned his back, kneeling once more beside Aithusa as her life slipped away.

"That was years ago," Arthur breathed.

"What was I to say?" Merlin asked woodenly.

Arthur made a strangled sort of noise. "You lied to me all that time."

"Yes," Merlin responded. "Uther would have had me killed."

"And after that?" Arthur snapped. "Merlin, after I was King we went looking for a dragon egg. You could have told me …"

He trailed off and Merlin knew another question was lingering on his tongue. Perhaps Merlin's rounded shoulders and steadfast refusal to meet his gaze answered the question for him. And Merlin knew - from the King's silence - that there were many more questions he wanted to know. About Balinor's death and Merlin's heritage. About the Great Dragon and it's attack on Camelot all those years ago - about who had really seen the creature off.

Instead, Arthur let out a growl and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to … Merlin, I don't …" The King made a frustrated sound. He turned and strode away. He didn't sheath his sword.

Merlin bowed his head as he stroked Aithusa's snout, her eyes wide as she looked up at him. She was dying. Somewhere far off in the burning forest, Kilgharrah was injured. Perhaps he was dying too.

Merlin tipped his head back and let the rain wash his tears away again. He didn't know what to do either.

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**Sorry if it doesn't make sense, but that's two parts now - one with each of the Pendragon siblings, with Merlin and Aithusa in the centre. I suppose I could have expanded a little more, but it sounded right where I left it.**

**Also, I first wrote this is in the present tense and changed it to fit in ... If that fact interests you ...**

**Tell me what you think!**

**-SP x**


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